


Bet On It

by MiracoloDiGigi



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Drunk Sex, Drunken Shenanigans, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 19:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14775875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiracoloDiGigi/pseuds/MiracoloDiGigi
Summary: Things get out of hand at Andrea's testimonial's after party.





	Bet On It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kirakiraakira13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirakiraakira13/gifts), [TheBlackWook](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackWook/gifts), [pirlohno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirlohno/gifts).



> It took forever, but @ Josh, Ale and Cecile. It's finally here. Smut.

Gigi really wasn't one for big parties, or parties of any kind, for that matter. He tended to slip away unnoticed, and retreat into the comfort and quiet of his own home without anyone noticing until it was far too late for it to matter. He recalled Thuram referring to him as  _ the ghost  _ because of such behavior, but it was certainly a nickname he could live with, especially from such a good friend. 

This party was different, however. It was for  _ Andrea.  _ In fact, he remained until the early hours of the morning, thoroughly entertained by his drunken former teammates and friends laughing and singing like they were all in their twenties again. All for Andrea. They rolled back the years with each drink, and put on quite the show along the way. They'd even managed to coax Gigi into drinking a little, himself. 

Andrea was gone relatively early on, and Paolo remained by his side, holding him up with an arm around his back. If it wasn't Paolo, it was Rino managing the task, however he too had been drinking, and Gigi could've sworn the man was ready to throw a few punches at certain points in the night. He couldn't help but laugh at the display that was oh so typical of his Ringhio. Others hung around as well; De Rossi, Ambrosini, Storari, Pato, and so many others, it was hard to keep track of everyone, especially with the blaring music and everyone  _ screaming  _ over top of it. 

Gigi, however, kept his distance for the most part. He'd get roped into shots periodically, and maybe a few songs here and there, but other than that, as he wasn't one for the party scene, he'd slip away and converse with some of the tamer, less intoxicated partygoers. He was only here to show his love and support for Andrea. The man had been one of his closest friends for decades, after all… And his lover for a good portion of those years as well. Even if the world didn't know it, — however most of the people at the party, at least, had their suspicions — he knew he needed to be there to support Andrea throughout the evening. They'd joked back at the San Siro, before the events of the evening had even begun, that this was  _ Andrea's _ night, and Gigi would have to make up for stealing the spotlight on Saturday during his final match with Juventus, as it had also happened to be Andrea's birthday. It was all in good fun, but it was a playful threat that still had the ability to send shivers down Gigi's spine. 

It had to have been past three in the morning by now, and a good portion of the crowd had begun heading home, but Gigi, Andrea, and a few others remained. Seeing as there were so few people around Andrea now, Gigi took the chance to get closer to his lover, an arm slipping around the smaller man's waist. 

“How are you holding up over here?” Gigi joked, truthfully not expecting much of a coherent answer from Andrea. 

With the alcohol in his system added to his already mumbled, hushed manner of speaking, it was near impossible to understand Andrea, who Gigi still attempted to decipher by leaning in closer. He could only assume Andrea had scoffed and said something along the lines of “I'm great.” 

He chuckled, and briefly pressed his lips to Andrea's temple, while his hand rubbed over his side. It was casual enough, nothing anyone should think twice about. “Time for you to lay off the alcohol, isn't it?”

Another scoff came from Andrea as he lifted his head to look up toward Gigi and spoke with surprising clarity this time, presumably trying to fool Gigi into thinking he was perfectly fine. “I'm  _ fine _ . It's time to get  _ you _ drunk.” He insisted, words slurred but understandable.

This time, it was Gigi who scoffed, but his protests proved to be futile as Andrea, and a few of the night's survivors dragged him over to the bar for more shots. Had Gigi really wanted to stop, surely they would've let him as they weren't the type to force him into doing something he didn't want to do, but thankfully this was all in good fun and Gigi agreed to drink with them. 

There were several more rounds of shots passed around, many of which were unfairly divided in Gigi's favor in hopes of getting him drunk faster — not that the others needed more alcohol anyway. And really… What reason did he have  _ not  _ to drink? It was no longer about trying to set a good example as a captain, nor was it about having to look after his players as a captain — technically speaking, he was on the verge of retirement, and there was absolutely no reason to refrain from drinking and enjoying himself. And so that he did. He drank what was given to him until he too was feeling the alcohol, surely not to the extent the others were, but enough to throw off his balance a little and slur his speech. He was pleasantly buzzed and suddenly very aware that there was no way he was driving home. Not that that seemed like an issue, he'd just have to tag along with Andrea, who surely had ride arrangements, and spend the night at his place. 

The thought alone brought a smirk to his features, and Andrea was quick to notice. He raised a brow at the elder man, the others going back to the dance floor with their drinks in hand, one mumbling the words " _twenty bucks says they fuck tonight",_ followed by laughter. Gigi and Andrea payed them no mind. 

“What's that for?” He remarked, and gestured toward Gigi. 

“Nothing.” Gigi shook his head, but the smirk remained. “How are you getting home, Andre?”

For a moment, the man was silent as he thought about what was to happen, and Gigi was briefly concerned he  _ didn't  _ know how he was getting home. Thankfully, though, given another moment, he produced an answer. “There's a car waiting for whenever I'm ready to leave. You're coming with me, aren't you?” Although it was a question, there was hardly a hint of doubt in his voice. He knew Gigi would come along. He wouldn't be able to resist if he wanted to. 

“Of course.” He didn't hesitate to respond, and clearly Andrea had already been expecting that answer. The smirk faded a little, but upon glancing over to Andrea, he realized he now wore a smirk. “What?”

“You'll see.” 

Another threat that made Gigi purse his lips and focus his gaze down at the empty shot glass in his hand. He thought for a moment, then glanced to Andrea, with a perfected look of confidence on the brink of cockiness.

“Why not now?”

Clearly, Andrea liked that answer, because he slid off his barstool without so much as a second thought, and took hold of Gigi's hand, urging him to follow. The elder man happily obliged, but he put his arm around Andrea's shoulders, instead, frankly not trusting him to stay on his feet. 

As they neared the exit into the outer lobby area, a voice Gigi wasn't too familiar with called out to Andrea, asking where he was off to. Andrea waved a hand dismissively, and simply answered with:

“Washroom.”

Gigi could hear the remaining men laugh as if they knew exactly what that meant, and as they exited the room, a whistle followed. Neither he nor Andrea were bothered by it. Instead, they continued through the lobby and into the washroom down a nearby corridor. Andrea mustered up a surprising amount of strength to practically drag Gigi into a stall of his choosing, shutting and locking the door, before pushing him up against it. There were no complaints, as to be expected. 

The two fumbled with each other's clothing while maintaining a heated kiss, struggling to undo buttons and belts in their intoxicated stupors. The pair wordlessly decided to move on partially clothed, seeing as they were in a public washroom after all, and they were having so much trouble getting undressed. 

Gigi's arms went around Andrea's neck as they kissed, and Andrea's hands wandered over Gigi's torso, craving more and more with every touch. Andrea broke the kiss first, dropping his head so that he could Kiss along Gigi's jawline and neck, whilst grinding his hips forward. The friction drew a soft sound from Gigi — a sound Andrea was immediately desperate to hear again. And he succeeded in forcing the sound out of Gigi again by leaving his mark on his neck with a satisfied hum. He couldn't resist doing it a few more times, either. 

When Andrea had had enough fun marking his lover, he abruptly moved back to turn him around, pressing Gigi's chest up against the stall door this time. He pushed his pants and underwear the rest of the way down until they pooled by his ankles, then did the same to his own without hesitance. Looking over his shoulder, Gigi immediately tried to press back on Andrea, and, just this once, Andrea let him. He guided his cock into Gigi's hole, before setting his hands on the man's hips and giving him a moment to adjust to having his length inside of him. After a moment, he began to thrust into his lover, being gentle with him at first, and taking his time. Regardless, he had Gigi moaning rather quickly. The elder man pressed his head against the stall door, then moved a hand up to grip the door as well, rocking his hips ever so slightly to match Andrea's rhythm and pace. 

Gradually, his thrusts grew harder and faster, so forceful it had the bathroom stall rattling. One hand maintained on Gigi's hip, fingertips digging in, while the other reached up to hold onto the top of the stall door to give himself some more leverage. 

Now, he was relentless and unforgiving with Gigi, not that he could even complain. He was simply reduced to a moaning, mewling mess as Andrea fucked him. The pleasure Andrea's actions brought and the alcohol in his system had him in utter bliss. And then Andrea began hitting his prostate with each thrust, and it drove him even further. Any hope of trying to keep this little session quiet was well and truly forgotten, between their moans and half uttered curse words, until Gigi was finally releasing, with Andrea close behind, filling him to the brim. 

And then the bathroom was silent, save for their soft pants as the two stood and attempted to catch their breaths. No words were needed at this point. Andrea did, however, pull Gigi's head back a bit so that he could steal a kiss, a light smirk upon his features. 

As they took a moment to recover, a faint shuffling could be heard a few stalls over, and the two froze, exchanging panicked glances. Neither Gigi nor Andrea had checked to see if the washroom was empty when they had stumbled their way in, they had simply chosen the first stall.

“ _Jesus_.” The man scoffed from his stall. Lo and behold, one of the partygoers had been in a stall, and heard the entire thing. 

Both Andrea and Gigi turned beet red in a fraction of a second, and Gigi brought a hand up to cover his face while stifling a laugh. 

“Sorry...” Andrea hesitantly spoke. What the hell else was he supposed to say? He certainly  _ wasn't _ sorry, though. That could stay between he and Gigi, however. 

"Better be. I'm out twenty bucks, now."

**Author's Note:**

> Two things:  
> 1\. If you don't think Gigi is Andrea's bottom bitch, you're wrong   
> 2\. I mostly just wanted to write smut, so, here you go.


End file.
